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Shared Holo Fight
Back to 2010 Logs Goa Slipstream Goa is busily laying into holographic hover drones with his grenade launcher, pausing only to load in fresh rounds every couple shots. His pace is frantic, and his aim diminished, though by the nature of a grenade launcher that doesn't particularly matter ... which may be why he's using hovering drones. Slipstream walks in and watches quietly, not wanting to disturb Goa's focus. Though more than likely he's aware she's here anyway. At least he's practicing, which is a good thing. Goa is aware of Slipstream's presence, though he doesn't quite understand why she's there ... then, after a moment's further thought, he does. A target slips from his range in that moment's parlance, and he backs off a little... seeming to nonchalantly stalk it with his aim until it -- well, the same holo-object index anyway -- reappears. He jumps it with a double shot, accompanied by a slight upturn of the lips, the beginning of a snarl. He holds the barrel of the launcher up, turning his head, and glancing over the edge of his helmet at the femme. "Yes?" Slipstream smiles at him, moving into the field of hovering drones. "Care to share?" she asks, reaching back for her lance with detaches from her back. "I could use a little practice myself, haven't fought ... in some time." she caught herself, not really wanting to bring up that last fight.. when she was downed and Starscream totally ignored that fact until Prime brought it to his attention. Goa watches Slipstream walk closer, only moving his large optics, and once she stops, he slowly hooks the launcher back into his cape. It was not designed with this sort of thing in mind. "Alright, but I still don't know what I'm doing." One of his blades quickly finds a hand. Slipstream idly taps you on the shoulder with the lance then turns toward the holo drones. "I don't know about that." she muses, then approaches a drone, swiveling her lance slightly with just a slow motion of her wrist. She then dives forward, plowing the tip into the drone. Goa plays a one-way game of chicken with a target, charging and swiping forward, but apparently having difficulty cornering the buzzing thing to score a hit. His strikes are short and spastic, a sort of slash-hook affair -- unlock the blade for better range, then draw it back in. "No, really..." The flicker and buzz of a target eliminated is audible. Goa seems to have ambushed the thing by snapping out his other scythe and sweeping it around. "I'd be slagged if I met another... er, swordsbot out there. Well, if he was my size, anyway." He spins around on the toes of his boots to face Slipstream, his left leg what he'd had shot at and broken before held carefully. "Speaking of that, I ran into Shred when I was out last shift." Slipstream knocks the drone with the side of the lance then restabs it several times. Body moving with grace as she dodges the strikes back. She hmms softly, keeping mental tabs on your targeting methods. It’s obvious their tactics differ. She frowns a bit at the mention of that name. "And?" "Could be handling it worse ... she wanted to talk to you." Goa's response seems almost ... warm. "You know she didn't mean it, right?" He singles out a second drone, moving low to the floor and shrugging off any counterattacks with his now-grey back plate. Slipstream stabs the next drone right in the face with her lance. "Didn't mean it? She tried to kill us /both/ and she didn't mean it?" Goa stops dead in the middle of his tracking to face the seeker, still largely hunched over, both blades held hooked under his chest. "I'm as slagged off as you are, but I've seen it before. She gets some of that crystal, or whatever the frag else it is she's on, and she's paranoid and broken. Not her. That little stunt I pulled with Megatron?" He pokes a thumb out toward the wind shaft, joint of the scythe turning lazily in his hand. "Seen that before too. Close enough. I'm a broken, paranoid mech myself, not behavin' all right either. Not me." He turns back away and leaps up, managing to actually *hook* a surprised holodrone overhead and bring it down to size ... where he promptly stabs the imagined living daylights out of it. Slipstream turns toward Goa as he speaks, optics staring into your own. She thinks about it and nods grudgingly, "So you are saying she has got hold of the crystals that were in you and its warped her somehow?" she asks, just verifying what she thinks you are trying to tell her. Though there is a mental pause about your comment concerning yourself, she frowns a bit. "Doesn't change how I feel about you Gooey." "I know it doesn't. You deserve to see me right in the head." He stands back to his full height, ignoring the targets for now, rubs above one optic ridge, and suddenly flinches ... forgot the antenna was there, perhaps. "No." Goa smirks over his shoulder, then looks outward, ready to lock on to something else now. "Shred was deleting her own files, her own ... self. Whatever's wrong with her's been around longer than I've been here." Slipstream smiles a bit to the sentiment, "Are you saying you aren't a bit better in the head after our..." she stops there, just in case there is bugs here... someone listening in, though her mental nudge carries her meaning for her... their spark merge, she had hoped she would have been a good influence upon her grounder. Then a frown and nod about Shred. "She say what she wanted to talk to me about?" Goa doesn't respond just yet as he sneaks up to another drone ... well, 'sneaks' being a misnomer. It doesn't appear as amused by his tactic, and gives him a sound smacking in the face with a holographic club. The simulated sting sends him scuttling back a few meters, so he starts circling instead. "She did not." He smiles again, but his stare does not leave his quarry. "Better, but it's never enough, is it?" Over the bond, his reply is a hazy playback -- <'... our little secret gets told to the whole damn base ...'? Why?> Slipstream puts her lance back into place on her back, reaching for her rifle in subspace. She stops a moment at that playback, frowning a bit. she asks back. Then she takes shots at the drones, filling them with holes as she tries to keep from being hit herself. Goa's momentarily distracted as he notices Slipstream carrying a rifle. He'd never seen her use it on foot, but he should've figured as much ... what seeker has no guns? ... except Firestorm. He'd have to ask her about that. <... weakness. No.> Some sub module of programming clicks on in the mech's head, and he abandons this target in favor of clearing a field out around Slipstream, able to just hold his blades to the sides and clip the drones as they're distracted. Slipstream uses the rifle very well, at least on drones. She nods a little to the comment, she drifts off there as she keeps her back to yours, Goa skates up right behind Slipstream and looses a growl at the targets that does little, for lack of programming or otherwise ... a threatening dart forward with both blades raised seems to get their respect well enough, forming a small clearing in front of him. Given a moment, the mech thinks, and seems to shrink in posture. He wanes reluctant, frantic, distressed by it when it's brought up so plainly. Slipstream finishes off her last target, putting her rifle away, she turns toward Goa with a question in the link, she can feel what you are feeling and it worries her. "I'm sure she's fine." she whispers softly, putting a hand on his shoulder as she tries to send him a wave of comfort over the link. Goa perks back up, turns to face Slipstream, and tugs her arm with encouragement to leave the projector. "I know. Where'd you patrol? They make you go underground too?" His antennae both point straight up inquisitively. Slipstream shakes her head, "It may as well have been. I got stuck with the Dead End between shifts over at the beast." she replies, moving to get out of the projector area now. "Oh, well ... I'll trade off with you, if it makes you feel better. Mine's not 'worst' at all. I just drive around the whole cycle... I guess..." His thoughts drift to his _actual_ patrol schedule, which details him skirting the hottest Autobot-Decepticon border skirmishes, not keeping tabs on Cubicron and his other haunts... Then he ponders Shred's unease in the underground, relaying it. "Guess not everybody understands that." Goa rolls backwards along with Slip's steps. Slipstream's wings shift a bit behind her, hmming softly to the offer of a trade and feeling the fact there was actual discomfort that Shred had in Cubicron. "I'll think about it." she says then stops a good 10 feet outside of the projector. "I guess you are right.. not everyone does. Maybe it's better they don't." Goa bends his knees and leans his arms on them in a crouch, still freely skating across the hall until he bumps the far wall. He smirks. Disjointed as always... He lifts up to his feet, holding one forearm back between the wall and his helmet. "Anything you wanted done 'fore the next shift, searching, quests? Me, I try to get in as much recharge as I can. For her faults, Poly's a safe place to rest." Slipstream looks confused at the 'special you' question, like it should mean something. "Actually I could use a recharge, perhaps with a certain someone by my side." she murmurs softly, looking hopeful. "I have no quests or other things to do at the moment really." Goa briefly considers Firestorm's search for their builders and others, the frigid trail ... but shakes the thought off. "Well then." He flashes his teeth at Slipstream and bolts off down the wind shaft. Slipstream races after the skating grounder, chuckling a bit that he's using it to his advantage. She does catch up once we reach the barracks though. Snagging a couple credits worth of energon first, she moves toward you, "Here, may as well recharge with a full tank." Goa starts to hold his hands up in a rejecting gesture, that sense of reluctance again bleeding over ... then he has a change of spark and relaxes. "Full tank? Slag," He looks down at his scorched-n-scuffed self, giving his chassis a brief scan, "Hardly in full condition to start with. Thanks..." He rolls off toward their typical bunk cell, still with that odd lack of inclination to walk. Slipstream glances at his body and hmms, "You know, I could take you to the showers.. give you a nice wash." she suggests softly, taking a sip of her energon since she does need it. She moves after you, "Just trying to look after you Gooey." she admits quietly. Goa halts up and turns around in place, then resumes a slower pace. "Someone's got to." He smirks ... not seeming entirely negative toward the suggestion, then looks over his arms in specific. The bracers' sheen is even duller than typical, now variously stained and splashed. "... I look like I did when I landed," he sighs, before taking a particularly long gulp of fuel. Slipstream watches you skate pace a bit, then smiles a bit to you. "So you'd like me to do that then? Wash you up, give you a nice wax?" she asks, obviously the undertone there is just getting to be with you alone for awhile. Goa brakes and sets one hand on his hip armor, the other still holding a ration. "Do you seekers even use wax? Weight can't be trivial for you." He alters course toward the wash, grinning at Slipstream until he passes by her in clear response to her insistence. Slipstream nods to the question, "Actually yes, we do, if we care at all about drag let alone our appearance." she states, then follows after you, "I do suppose a sonic shower is out of question for you, with a bit of crystal inside you, so a chemical shower for you." Goa disappears inside the small facility. Come to think of it, the sonics never /hurt/ him, but they always left him feeling sort of hollow ... though he'd always figured the ache was just the memory of water, something actually /pleasant/ about that entire epoch of his existence tugging at his spark strings. "Knowledge is power," he mutters as he looks around. Slipstream moves to a shower to get it going, gesturing you over, "Get in here, I won't bite." she remarks with a little flash of her blunt denta. She grabs a sponge and stands just slightly in the path of the chemicals as they patter down. Goa finally unfolds his boots from his forelegs, ambling over to Slipstream's shower of choice with a downplayed limp. He stands directly under the spout, and though the contour of his helmet submerges his optics in the stream, he doesn't seem to mind, as that very mind is elsewhere in the past. Slipstream smiles a bit and gets to work with the sponge, starting with the helm with circular motions. She gets splashed by the chemicals as well and by proxy a bit splattered with grime off of you, but it's fine with her. She has time with you, she won't complain. Goa looks up and curiously runs a finger over one of the soused areas on Slip's armor, then examines it. Considering her colors of choice, he realizes that if she'd been wandering around all grimy, he well might've not noticed. Not that he'd well care, but an irritating chance to inspect ... He clicks his antennae out so that groove of the helmet gets at least a rinse as well, squinting a little as they get hit by the stream and re-equalize. Slipstream mms softly to the finger stroke, continuing to move along the helm, getting into the groove as far as she is able, then getting the antennae themselves. Indeed she's so spotlessly and gleamingly black that grime would be obvious upon her. Goa jumps and grates his dentals on each other. "Gnnn," he responds, accompanied in rumbling by his engine, then immediately melts into a chuckle. "I think those are fine." He does another swipe-and-examination of Slip's armor -- huh. Can't fault a seeker for being vain, right? "So should I keep the grey back, or invest in the body shop?" Slipstream may get that sense of vanity off of you, since she gives you a momentary cross look, then continues, purposefully mashing the sponge over your smug face. "I would like it if you were of uniform color, if that is what you mean." she says softly, "But the gray cape isn't bad either. It's up to you." Goa, surprised-- "Whaaorffg--" He only seems amused by the entire concept, reaction and all, as evident from his unusually hearty laugh once his face is unobscured. "So you're saying if I walked to you all bright pink, you'd have no problem with it?" He makes a little pose, posturing his hips to one side and placing his hands on them. "... you know, on second thought, I should be probably be more careful. Disregard that." Slipstream moves the sponge off your face with a smirk to the question, "Gooey, you would not look good in pink and you know it." she does your neck next, "You are fine the way you are." she furthers, then a smile, "Too late to take it back. Sorry." Goa tilts his head back, exposing his quite active vocalizer and pointy chin. "Well, you don't have a paint nozzle for an arm last I checked, so I guess I'm safe." He shuffles close against Slipstream's armor so he can actually see her from this angle. "... what were you so relieved about when I was in repairs?" Slipstream giggles a bit as you gargle the last bit on the chemicals. She swears you did that on purpose. In fact she is sure you did. She slips the sponge along your shoulders then down an arm, "You know I don't Gooey." she pauses though at the question, "Oh, yes. Megatron said he would forgive you, but not forget. Honestly you should never get in that mechs way." Goa's mind momentarily blanks with fear. A nanoclick later, when it fades, it seems he's actively blocking something. He takes a moment to drain the liquid from his immediate vocal structure. "Don't mean to be forgiven for protecting a friend ..." he mutters, before piping back up, "... but all's well that ends well, right?" He lifts his arm... and sets it on Slipstream's shoulder with a weak smile, spinning the wheel 180 degrees for completion's sake. "What about you? You forgive? What about forgetting?" Slipstream pauses again at the shoulder contact following but those specific questions, she frowns just a hint and sighs. "I told you Goa you could have got us both killed for getting in his way. Our sparks are linked. There is no way in the pit you could block what his cannon would do to you from me." then she picks up where she left off, finishing the arm off and moving to do the other. "I can forgive you for wanting to help her, but she put herself in that situation. And may I remind you she was trying to kill us once again." Goa makes that little sneering, perk-up gesture that precedes a quip ... but before he makes any noise, it just melts into a downcast frown. The liquid trails off the cone of his nose instead of pouring over his face. His mental boundaries do not relax, but in fact embrittle to the point they develop cracks. Goa's arm joins his other around Slipstream's shoulder, squeezing gently. Slipstream sends quite clearly the image of the bowels of a cannon, not Megatron's.. but Magnum's.. that deep stirring power and then it surging toward you. The pain of it crackling through the link, the struggle to stay alive. She makes it vibrantly clear how close she was to death. "Mech with power and a will to kill." she whispers. The smaller mech isn't immediately moved by the imagery; from his drifting thoughts it's clear none of it is new to him, though how he won't say. What does bring Goa to bright-eyed attention is the long-past threat to his spark-mate -- the memory of Slipstream's fight to hold on. He turns his nose back upward, ignoring the chemicals streaming into and over his mouth, with a dark, far-off look in his optics. The rushing of the link makes it ever more clear Goa is leagues away, looking through his database for something... something explanatory, elaboratory, the trigger-of-vicious-indignant-defeatist... the descriptive aspects run a kilometer a minute. He finds it, and the closeness of the two Decepticons lends his offering a clarity it couldn't have had from afar. His memory is dark and soundless, even in the clear daylight it's recorded under. Many forms seem shapeless, clearest exception a strikingly red-orange seeker... a very livid seeker. A glance is taken to an outside, a riotous, similarly shapeless outside, but there are mechs there, frenzied ones, all falling, faltering, from damage self-inflicted or otherwise. As sound comes into focus, wordless commands and shouts ring out. A feeling like Goa's self-loathing now, but considerably more ancient, is palpable ... it's clear he isn't supposed to be wherever he is -- a nanoclick before the sensation is only sensor feedback and pain and the uncannily sharp closure of a dusty recollection. "I know." Slipstream pauses in her cleaning as you send that memory along the link, she frowns then nods to the two words, starting up again as she cleans your chest and torso in silence. Though her mind is obviously turning over what was shown to her, trying to make sense of it. She feels a little sad, but also empathic. She knew you had a rough time, but now it's even clearer it was rougher than even you have been willing to show her. Goa lays his antennae back into their slots... "Sorry," he gurgles. He's conscious of the ruined mood ... but feels there was no other way for her to understand. His chest plate and flanks seem to have it the worst for wear -- the underside of his chest in particular is caked in debris that falls off under a quick scrub. "Should just stop thinking about it. I have you, and I'm not dead, and slagged if that's not contentment, suppose." Slipstream nods a bit to the apology, continuing her cleansing, being quite thorough about it, nothing is going to be left behind if she has any say about it. She replies, "The past is past, all you can to is grieve for the loss of those that were with you on the mission and thank Primus for letting you live... even if it did obviously scar you more than just physically, but mentally, and I suspect spiritually as well." she crouches down to do your legs now. Goa sends a curious nudge at the mention of spirituality. Since his premonition at the Spire of Freedom, it'd been in the back of his processor, but it was a largely alien concept, one he was uneager to express. No salvation in the underworld, and certainly not in the other worlds, for that matter ... but he was here, wasn't he? And in his mind, he'd done some small good, feeling in the most self-righteous corner of his CPU ... ordained. He looks down, gauging how gentle she is on his bad thigh. "Save the wrench in the works. There's only revenge for my sister. I could've done more..." Goa digs his thumbs into Slipstream's neck in the meantime, rolling them in a calming motion. Slipstream feels the nudge, her concept of spirituality is vague at best, all she can summon up is a image of CC priests passing through the academy one cycle to see if they could drum up some potential from the young, eager mechs and femmes. Admittedly she was a bit taken aback by how peaceful they were, the odd calm the projected. It was comforting. If not for Megtron's rather stirring speech after they had departed, you get the idea she may have considered a visit to the monastery. She is careful of the thigh, having noticed how you were trying to play it off like it didn't hurt. "Cannot get revenge on mechs that are dead." she points out. "You need to forgive yourself for something you had no control over Gooey." Goa can't hide an underlying sense of awe, such a calm in a storm ... but he is simultaneously embittered, drifting to Crystal City's closed doors, insulation, the way he's seen behind the 'veil' of sorts with Firestorm's eyes, where she, too, only found rejection. "... no control," He mumbles, only clarified by honesty, the firewall lifting ... to a feeling of old helplessness. A dripping hand strokes the back of Slipstream's helmet absently. <... didn't. Now I know better, I couldn't.> "They were doomed as soon as we entered that system," he admits aloud ... slurring, like his processor is trying to keep him from saying it. Goa lifts one boot and turns it aside. "Right back to the heels. Like old times, eh?" Slipstream had been awed the calm too, but when one is young you are easily awed. She feels that bitterness and reasons quietly over the link that they had their reasons, they were trying to stave off the war that would come to them eventually. It was a matter of time, they knew it. She cleans the boot you turn and hmms softly to the helmet stroke, "Survivor guilt does not become you Gooey." she murmurs, knowing full well that is what the core of it is.. guilt over surviving when others didn't. "You survived because luck, fate, or Primus himself wanted it so. My life would not have you in it." Goa's legs nearly rattle out from under him, so he decides to just turn and sit down on the floor. The stream hits and runs off, as well as under, his back plate, with no mind as he was soaked to begin with. This realization, now on such a personal level, is hitting him, mind and spark, mercilessly ... "I always thought f'some reason Primus didn't like Decepticons," he quips with a wavering smirk as he looks squarely, but dimly, into Slipstream's optics, trying to defuse both himself and the tension. Slipstream takes the sponge to the back not that it's turned toward her more or less, listening then pondering a few moments before she says simply, "We all came from him.. our sparks.. do we not? Why would he not care?" she reasons, "He just doesn't work directly in our lives. Free choice, free will... " she states, sounding like she had been listening to those priests words and taken them to heart. "And we aren't evil... not really.." Goa lifts his head up with a pointedly determined look. "Then maybe there's a lesson to be learned if there's no vengeance left," he says, tapping his beard. "Maybe..." He clatters his legs out flat on the floor, now deep in thought, not so distant thought. "Not evil. Hardly evil. Hm." Goa's back plate actually looks meticulously repaired -- the holes are all patched up, and the surface, if dinged-up, is no less thick or battle-ready than it was the day he was built. It's just really ugly after what it's been through. He sighs, and his ventral fans buzz-choke on a bit of liquid that found its way into his side intakes. "If not that, then what the slag am I doing, Slip? Humor me." Slipstream has to take a moment to figure out what the slag you are even talking about. Then she gets it.. the whole Firestorm and getting even with those that did the experiments on her... She is done with her cleaning and hugs you around the neck, leaning lightly on your back as she murmurs into your audio, "You are spending time with me, do you need to be doing anything more Gooey. The past it done with, and as much as vengeance may have felt good if you got it, it wouldn't erase what happened to Firestorm. So I think it best you support her anyway you can, that's what you can do." "... I suppose it only figures that the Autobots get their own weapon turned on them," he reasons. He practically melts under Slipstream, scooting backwards to lean much less lightly against her frame. Wordlessly, he dwells on more peaceful times, like that nice waters-edge vista ... maybe nice not even in spite of the organic world, but because of it. Then he notices you've let up on the scrubbing. "Alright, where's the wax?" Goa's antennae click out and he scans around, seemingly recovered. Slipstream sighs softly, "Again those that are responsible are dead. Let the past be. Dragging it out is pointless. Do you really want Firestorm to have to witness that again over some sense of getting back at them?" she asks, feeling like you just don't get it. Or maybe it's just her that doesn't get it. Maybe both. It's a hard call. "Wax next." she assures, straightening a bit to hit the wax mist selection on the shower head. She then crouches back down, rehugging around your neck. "You are one track minded, I swear." Goa's optics haze ... it wouldn't be the first time he's put his own motives ahead of Firestorm's well-being, he remembers, and that seems to be the tipping point for him. "No. No... no, I am." Goa hides his quivering face by face palming, in an exhausted way, and biting down hard into his lip. "I guess... alright. It doesn't make it any less wrong. One-track--heh... heh. Ahh," Goa pulls himself into a crouch so he can turn around and embrace Slipstream face to face. "Alright, you got me. I may as well have rail wheels." Slipstream smiles a hint, you got it.. finally. And she knew you were one track minded for awhile now, even before the spark merge. She leans against you and chuckles a bit to the admission, "So what does that make me.. a passenger?" she muses, "Not like you are going to change, it’s a part of you and I've accepted that." Goa bumps his cheek on hers. "Cybersteer on the rails." His metaphor is instantaneous, credit of spending too much time in that industry. "You saw how I fight, Slippy. I might have one target at a time... least I can do is make sure it's the right target." He kisses Slipstream's jaw line, then perches his chin on her shoulder contentedly. Slipstream frowns at that imagery, then hmms, "Just don't run me over." she murmurs. She just cracked a joke. Hey it was bound to happen! She mmms softly to the kiss and sighs, "Waxed up enough?" she inquires. Goa chuckles ... not only did she manage that, but it was on the correct wavelength of humor for him to recognize, for once. "Are you?" he kids, now with some measure of cheer creeping into his voice, as he stands to turn the valves off himself. Slipstream smiles and nods, getting up as well. "Recharge is calling, with you next to me." she murmurs. Goa, ever jumping the gun, so to speak, immediately skitters off back toward the bulk of the barracks complex. If Slipstream can keep up, she'll find him curled up in the corner of his bunk, smirk-ful as can be. Slipstream shakes her head and lays down next to the grounder, facing toward him so her wings aren't affected by his close proximity. Goa chortles, finding himself cornered, but with no complaints. He does pick up on that caution and reach over to gently pat the surface of a wing anyway, then just lets that hand hang over her waist, uncurling and pulling his frame up against hers. "So you're paranoid as I am, but you don't think something like this makes it obvious?" Slipstream chuckles softly to that, then sighs, "Point taken, would you rather I go to my own bunk then Gooey." Goa forms his reply by promptly locking all his limbs around the seeker's shoulders and legs, then lolling his helmet aside and whirring his fans down. "See you next cycle, Slippy." Slipstream smirks, she thought so, then drifts off to recharge herself in her grounders literal grasp. Category:Logs Category:2010 Logs Category:Goa's Logs Category:Slipstream's Logs